


lay me to waste, my heart is a crowded place

by johnconstantine



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Christmas, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Pining, Season/Series 03, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 06:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnconstantine/pseuds/johnconstantine
Summary: Veronica, Betty, and a bottle of alcohol on Christmas Eve.





	lay me to waste, my heart is a crowded place

Christmas in Riverdale is a grim affair this year. With the town quarantined, nobody being able to get in or out, it's like being imprisoned in a smudged snow globe. 

Though she feels for those that are separated, even if her dear father hadn't pulled that wicked move, this would've been the worst Christmas of her young life anyway.

Around this time last year Veronica had succeeded in unlocking the part of herself that prevented her from telling Archie that she loved him, and although their relationship was strained back then as well, she couldn't have imagined not spending Christmas with her parents, exchanging presents and kisses on the cheek.

This year she's stuck in a town where everything's steered by Hades and Persephone themselves, her first great love exiled, and not even Pop's seasonal Mocha Hot Chocolate can paste a smile onto her face.  

She puts up a tall pine tree in  _La Bonne Nuit,_ garishly bright lights winding around the branches, an angel placed atop of the tree. Not a usual custom for bars, but then again her establishment is unconventional, and more importantly it's where she spends day and night now, though the change in ambiance doesn't have the desired effect of lifting her mood. In fact, it simply further dismays her. That tree feels like a farce, like playing pretend. Nothing's normal, nothing's like it used to be, so really, why does she even bother? She wants to tip the tree over by the time she's finished decorating it.

Reggie invites her to spend Christmas with him, voice all soft and eyes glittering with warmth, but she declines, because it'd be too much. Something's changed between them, but she's too tired, too worn, to go exploring the new landscape of their relationship yet. Between the state of the general mess that's her life, and the ghost of Archie that lingers between them, she envisions herself doing and saying things she'd regret the next day. Reggie nods graciously, though his face falters at her response.  

Instead, she accepts Betty's invitation to spend it with her at the Cooper house; Betty is familiar and comfortable and her best friend, and she needs her as a grounding anchor just as much as Veronica does her. Things are still hostile between Alice and Betty, and the negative energy rubs off on the house. It's like some bleak, desolate version of  _Winter Wonderland._ The homemade cookies taste stale and the mistletoe in the living room dangles limply overhead, like it wants nothing more than to jump into the nearby fireplace and end its miserable existence. Veronica can relate.

That's how they end up in Betty's room on Christmas Eve, planted on their backs with a bottle of  _Rosé_ snuggled between them, staring at the ceiling, the door behind them locked. The window in Betty's room is titled, curtains parted, moonlight and chilly air filtering through, and Veronica tries not to think too hard about how lonely Fred Andrews must be next door.

"Thank you for coming over, Vee. I don't think I could've survived that dinner with my mom without you present," Betty says and takes a swig from the bottle.

"Don't mention it. It's not like I had anywhere else to be," Veronica says, trying to keep her voice even. She's in no mood to break out in tears during the holidays. What a depressing thought.

"I'm sorry," Betty replies instantly, even though she has nothing to apologize for, even though Veronica's not the only one suffering with a gaping hole in her heart.

"I'm sorry, too. About Jughead. I know how much you miss him."

Betty turns her head to look at her, eyes slightly wet. Veronica shifts onto her side to return her gaze. She sees herself reflected in Betty's eyes, and realizes that they both bear the same facial expression. It's like looking into a mirror, and her heart aches.

 _(B &V —_  _two halves of one whole.)_

"It hurts, Veronica. Not just being apart from him, but everything all of us have been through. So much pain, so much tragedy. Sometimes it feels endless. Sometimes I just want to travel back to the beginning of sophomore year, when I met you for the first time, and the world seemed more hopeful than dark," Betty chokes out, and the sound rips right through Veronica, and all she wants to do in that moment is grip Betty's hand until their molecules melt into one.

"You mean you want to relive me kissing Archie?" Veronica jokes, attempting to lighten the mood.

Her attempt proves itself a success when she sees a genuine smile forming on Betty's lips. She shakes her head lightly, strands of hair falling into her face. Veronica reaches out a hand and tucks the strands behind her ear. Betty's skin feels hot and soft underneath her touch. Veronica doesn't bother to extract her hand.

"We are so far past that."

Veronica grins cheekily. "Remember when you tried to use Cheryl to make me jealous?" she asks and cocks a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Not my greatest moment," Betty exhales.

Then silence falls over them like a blanket, Veronica tracing the outline of her ear with her fingertips. Her eyes drop to Betty's lips, her plump, pink lips, still shiny from the alcohol, and the overwhelming desire to kiss her courses through Veronica's veins like a heady drug. Kiss her here, within the four walls of her bedroom, a sacred land that is not for her to tread upon; she knows that. Veronica might be a free woman, but Betty is somebody else's.

"I want to kiss you," Veronica admits candidly, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I know," Betty says, voice laced with sadness.  _But you can't —_ the wordshover unspoken between them. Veronica can feel her move closer. "Hold me instead," Betty whispers.

Veronica opens her eyes, staring into Betty's bright blue ones, and their faces are so close their noses almost touch. "Okay."

Veronica closes the gap between their bodies, twines her arms around Betty's waist and buries her face in the crook of her neck. Betty's perfume invades her senses, the delicate sweetness of her scent enveloping her. Her silky blonde hair brushes against her face. 

One of Betty's hands is on her back, fingers running in light circles across her clothed skin, while the other one is resting near her hip.

They stay like this for a while, an indefinite amount of minutes or hours, before they decide to go to sleep.

That night, laying on the same bed, bodies faintly touching each other, they both dream of the same thing.

 

_(Don't freak out._

_Just trust me.)_

 

The next morning, the world seems a little bit more bearable.

 

 

 

**fin.**


End file.
